


Code Orange

by rjosettes



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 00:43:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4983277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rjosettes/pseuds/rjosettes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Stiles is, like. Right down the street, coming this way. Slowly. Alone.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Code Orange

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Teen Wolf Femslash Fic-Writing Week! Was only planning on writing once for this week, but the idea grabbed me and I typed it up. Unbeta'd. Also fills the 'I'll save you' square on my Teen Wolf Bingo card!

“Shit.” Heather ducks behind a waving banner outside the jewelry store, shielding herself with the advertisement for 'engagement season' sales. It plasters itself to her face every time the wind blows, but it's the best hiding spot she could grab on such short notice. “Danielle,” she whispers urgently, reaching to tug at her sleeve before she walks on without her. “Code orange!”

Danielle glances back over her shoulder, one foot still poised just over the pavement, eyebrows arched. “Am I supposed to know what that means?”

Tugging harder, Heather retreats further, back against the brick storefront. The lace cutout on the back of her tank is going to be frayed all to hell, but it's better than the alternative. “It was going to be code orange and blue, but I didn't want to waste that much time.”

“So we're on high alert for the Mets?”

“Oh my God, just come here.” Danielle doesn't even pretend she's hiding, but she does come close enough to talk to comfortable. A win's a win. “Stiles is, like. Right down the street, coming this way. Slowly. Alone.” A quick peek to check his progress finds him still stalled in front of a display of sneakers. “I can't talk to him!”

“Last time I checked, you wanted to do more than just talk to that boy.” She purses her lips. “God knows why.”

Heather's been avoiding this talk for weeks now. For all her best friend knows, she lost her virginity on a basement mattress on her birthday, and it was either so bad or so embarrassing that she hasn't been able to spill. “I might have...bailed on him? And then stopped answering his texts.”

Danielle snorts, craning to watch Stiles's fidgeting fingers tap at the glass he's staring through. He can't even hold still when he finds something he likes. “You mean you pulled a hit and run? I _did_ warn you, you know.”

“It wasn't a hit and run! There was no...hitting. He went upstairs to get a condom and I just...”

“You chickened out.”

She can feel her cheeks heating for no reason. She changed her mind; there's nothing embarrassing about that. “I just didn't want to, okay? I started thinking about what you said, and he was really nervous and his hands were kind of sweaty. I can't let him see me. What if he-”

“Honey, you know you can just say no, right? You don't even have to see him at school every day. Just pat him on the head and tell him you want to stay friends. Friends that don't bang.”

Heather hasn't used her most pleading look since she got suspended in second grade for biting someone and her mom wanted to sell their Britney Spears tickets. “Dani,” she whines, pouting pitifully. She just wants to be out of here. Avoiding problems had always been her strategy for handling things. The incident on her birthday was destined to fail from the start; people don't just change. She wants to hide behind this banner and her exasperated friend until Stiles passes by none the wiser. This was supposed to be a fun shopping day to lift their spirits after all the weird shit that's been happening nearby.

“You know what?” Danielle grins, and for Heather it's like the sun coming out. She knows that smile. “I'll save you.”

The relief lasts for all of four seconds before she's pulled back out onto the sidewalk, her fingers tangled in Danielle's tight grip, led along down the street. In the wrong direction. Right towards Stiles. “Are you sure you were listening to what I – _Stiles_!” She laughs, a little hysterical with panic. “Hi. Wow, you are...not at home. Or with Scott. Okay.”

Stiles lights up, though it doesn't get rid of the dark circles beneath his eyes. Junior year must be getting rough over at Beacon Hills High. “Heather! Hey. It's good to – I was worried about you, you know, you just. Disappeared.”

“I did? I did. To be fair, you did disappear first.” The excuses in her head are stacking up on top of one another, and most of them are only going to save her ass for right now and come back to bite it later. “See, I realized I sent you to the wrong-”

“She was with me.” Stiles looks like he's noticing Danielle for the first time. “I was pretty pissed off – I did _not_ want her down there with you – and then you did me a favor and left. So I guess she should be thanking you for that.”

“Uh, you...” Stiles gestures at his own chest, glancing between them. “I'm sorry?”

“No need to apologize. I got a girlfriend, and she didn't have to have sex in a wine cellar. Win-win. Except for you, I guess.”

It'd be nice to be able to say this is classic Danielle, but Heather was expecting nothing more than backup – maybe a little bit of verbal smackdown if Stiles got fresh. Not that Stiles probably even knows how to get fresh. She's heard him talk about the girl from school that he's had a crush on forever, and all the weird shit he's always doing to win her over. None of it has been handsy – even the stuff that's kind of gross when you think about it – and all of it's been ineffective. “I doubt he's heartbroken,” she says after a long, awkward pause. “I wouldn't have been a very good lay.”

The arm that slips around her waist pulls her in tight, soft bodies pressing together. “Hey, now. Don't sell yourself short.” Stiles is flushing, the color at least making him look less tired. She can see the muscles in his arms twitching indecisively, not sure what to do with himself. “The first time's always a little gross, but you got better.”

Heather manages not to melt onto the concrete until Stiles excuses himself, slightly frantic. She bites her lip and watches him over her shoulder until he turns a corner, phone pressed to his ear. Danielle's laughing, starts walking again without letting her go, and she mindlessly falls in step. “What was that?”

“The best excuse you could possibly get. There's no better 'no' than 'a lesbian got to me first'.” She's beaming with victory, probably processing how she's going to make a joke out of this down the line. “Now he'll keep his hands to himself and have a story to tell his friends.”

“Oh.” Something about this doesn't sit right. “So that's all that was?”

Danielle looks at her curiously, head tilted, smile dimming into something thoughtful. “I told you I'd save you.” Her fingers grip tighter on Heather's waist. “Nobody said I was done.”


End file.
